Part One of Three.
"Come here." He beckoned. He was hard to resist – always tempting her with his sheer presence. He needed her more than the world, yet pushed her away every chance he could.
She walked up to him apprehensively. "Yes?" She inquired. He enveloped her in broad arms and held her as long as she'd let him. She stiffened at first, but eventually relaxed.
"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He whispered in her ear. Inside, her belly flipped. Outside, she scoffed.
"And how many times have you used that one?" She retorted and shoved out of his arms.
"Bryn," he warned, "Stop it."
She smirked. Who was he to tell her what to do when he tore her up inside every day? Ahaw, hell no. "Or else?" She challenged.
"Or else you'll regret it." She chuckled angrily and shook her head.
"That's what you think, Brett." Turning on her heel, she scurried off furiously. Irate at him, at the world, but most of all – she was irate at herself.
He grumbled and wondered if he pushed her too far.
She walked and walked, until she reached her destination. The top of her apartment building was her escape from the world. Up here, she could breathe easier and think uninterrupted. Why? Why had she let him in so far? He couldn't be that ignorant to not know he was ripping her to shreds. She exhaled a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and sat Indian style on the rooftop. Bryn shoved her ear buds in and shuffled to the song she needed to hear. It was one of her favorites and she hummed to its melancholic tune. She always listened to My Heart Is Broken by Evanescence. It healed her for just a little while; music had a way of calming her.
"I can't go on living this way
But I can't go back the way I came
Chained to this fear that I will never find
A way to heal my soul
And I will wander 'til the end of time
Half alive without you…"
Brett hit the wall with his fist. Where the hell had she gone? He searched everywhere for her. Suddenly, a light bulb turned on in his brain – the rooftop, her sacred place. He sprinted to his car. Revving the engine, he shifted quickly from first to third – not exactly an easy feat – while his mind raced. What was going on with her? He abruptly felt the vibration of his phone. Hoping it was Bryn, he answered quickly without checking the screen. "Hey." He shifted smoothly into the last gear as he heard the engine rev higher.
"Mmm, hey," came the sultry voice, "What are you doing tonight?" Brett rolled his eyes. He should've known.
"Hey Kami, I'm busy tonight." He could pretty much hear her pout over the phone.
"How about after that?" He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.
"I'll see." Brett snapped the phone closed and parked. Sprinting until the rooftop, he finally faltered when he saw her sitting alone. The scene yanked his heart. He could hear his pulse thundering in his ears, but it wasn't from dashing up to the roof. It was from fear. He knew she was pissed off and that scared the shit out of him.
The tall, stocky male quietly made his way behind his best friend. Without making a sound, he sat down next to her, inspecting her facial expressions. He saw her inhale deeply and he knew Bryn was livid.
"Why are you here?" She spoke softly, as if she were trying to entice him to listen to her carefully.
"You ran off and scared me." Bryn snorted and her eyes flicked open.
"Just needed some peace and quiet," she whispered.
"Are we okay?" Brett queried cautiously. Breathing deeply once more, Bryn put her infamous fake smile on and raised her chin.
"Of course." Her smile never faltered. He smiled back, stood up, and reached his hands out for her. She hesitated, but ended up taking his helping hands. When they were both erect, he wrapped his arms around her again.
It was a quick embrace and when they separated, her heart cracked a little. The disappointment and exhaustion were killing her.
"I'm always here for you." Her smile waned a little as her heart fractured a bit more. She should be used to the pain. After all, she was in love with her unattainable best friend who was the biggest playboy she'd ever known. But true love knows no bounds and she'd known him for years now, ever since he moved in down the street.
Bryn tried her best to give him a reassuring smile – faking it of course. She squeezed his arm and yet again walked away from him. He hurt her every day and yet Brett was too oblivious to notice anything.
"Bryn!" He shouted at her. She turned slightly, watching him jog to her. "What did I do?"
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes – it was filled with lies and emptiness. "Nothing. I just have some stuff to do." She walked away, numb to the world. The young girl ran downstairs to the fourth floor to her one bedroom apartment. Closing the door, she locked it in a daze, turned around, and slid down the door until she was sitting. She closed her eyes tightly, her head resting on her arms which were resting on her knees. Breathing in deeply, she made an effort to calm herself.
"Hi, my name is Brett. What's your name?!" The little boy skipped over to her.
"I'm Bryn. Did you just move in?" The boy nodded furiously, his grin never wavering. She could tell they were going to be the best of friends.
She grabbed his hand and they ran over to his house to play cops and robbers.
Bryn felt rather than heard the knocking against the door. She stirred, wondering what time it was. She managed to open her eyes and see that it was 7:00 at night. She'd been asleep for four hours? What the hell… she must've been more exhausted than she thought.
Once again, three more knocks. "Bryn, are you there?" She recognized Brett's voice. She moaned, but managed to pull herself off the ground. She unlocked it hurriedly; she just wanted the stupid noise to stop. Bryn despised waking up to loud noises – it made her bitchy.
"What?" She snapped. Brett's eyes widened in fear and held up his hands in submission.
"Whoa. Just wanted to see you. No need to rip my head off."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll just reattach it later," she mumbled to no one.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, why are you here, Brett?" She closed her eyes tightly for a moment as if she were trying to eliminate all the anger and pain for a split second.
"I just wanted to see you. You haven't been yourself lately. What's going on?" Brett's hazel eyes darkened, causing her breath to hitch.
"I'm fine, just super exhausted is all." Fine. She always told people she was fine so they'd leave her alone. Honestly, she was falling apart.
"No you're not. I know you. Stop lying to me." Bryn dragged herself over the couch and flopped down on it. "What did I do?" What did you do? What did you fucking do? You stepped into my life and changed it forever. You parade around with different girls all the goddamn time and I just stand there like the best friend I am and just take it. I can't take much more, Brett fucking Daniels!
But she didn't say that. Instead she said, "Nothing. It's just work."
"Bryn, damn it. I swear to God if you don't tell me what the hell is going on with you, I'll call your parents." Her eyes narrowed at him.
"Don't. Don't you fucking dare threaten me with telling them. You wanna know what's wrong? Huh?" She shoved herself off the couch and when she realized he was still standing, she rammed her hands into his chest. "I'm tired of playing this dance with you, Brett Mitchell Daniels," she hissed vehemently. "You don't get to act like you care about me while you tear my heart into shreds. You don't get to stand there and act as though you don't know how I feel about you. You're like a damn carcinogen and I can't kick the habit. Fuck you!"
Brett faltered – he was lost for words. He knew his best friend Bryn Richardson. She never cussed or even raised her voice above a normal speaking level. "I… I'm sorry," was the only thing he could come up with.
She scoffed. "Yeah, I bet you are. Get out," she bit out.
"Bryn," he started to protest, "just –"
But she cut him off and glared daggers at him. "Get. The. Fuck. Out."
A/N: I know, I know. I should really be continuing Apologize or The Challenge (personally I prefer Apologize over The Challenge, but eh). I just wanted to try something I've never really done before - a three-shot. I used to think, one-shot? Why the hell would anyone do that? Well, recently I've become a huge fan of them and it's nice to do short stories every once in awhile. You don't get too annoyed when the story has gone on forever and has no ending or those authors (myself included) who get too busy and then end up discontinuing their story...
Blah blah blah, anyways. Read, review, PM me. I'd love to hear feedback!